I am not much of a pink-y girl. I learned to accept growing up that because I was a girl, pink was expected of me. I didn't hate it. But, my favorite color is any shade of teal or aquamarine or turquoise. I never had a pink room or pink ambitions. Pink-y girls always seemed vapid and specious to me as I was growing up. I was serious and not silly, I was blue and not pink.
I gave birth to a son and no daughters, so pink was never thrust upon me. I live in a boy house with a husband and two male cats and a son who visits infrequently. I live amongst the boys. So, I suppose when it comes to quilting I lean heavily upon the boy colors of blue or red or the non-sexist colors of orange and yellow and green. I don't do much purple or pink.
But, lately I have worked on pink quilts. I have mixed feelings about them. Love them, hate them. I am not a pink-y girl and I hate to thrust pink ambitions upon a sweet new child. But, maybe one pink-y quilt will not a pink girl make. When I consider it, I have had a few friends over the years who are girly girls. They are pink girls. They like pink. I have learned things from them and learned to love them. There are worse things than pink.
And so with this new year, I begin another quilt, pink, with reddish ambitions. My mother wanted to know who it was for, and was very dissatisfied with my answer that I don't know yet. But, I don't. When I finish the quilt, the Lord will send the baby. I have never kept a quilt around long waiting for a baby to send it to and I am sure that the same thing will be true this time.
I the meantime, I pray for her, this little sweet girl of this pink-y quilt.